


A Birthday

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester's Birthday, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5899795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dean's birthday, and Cas has arranged a few surprises for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday

There were only two people in the world that Dean would trust with the Impala. Sam was one of them, even though Dean kept one eye firmly on the wheel and his left hand tensed ready to reach out and grab it should there be any problems. Old habits died hard even after all this time. Plus, it annoyed the hell out of Sam, which was always an added bonus.

Right now though, Dean sat very nonchalantly in the passenger seat as they drove a route that felt aimless, but one that he was sure that Cas had plotted with purpose.

Dean was more comfortable a passenger than he’d ever let on. His elbow leaned out of the open window and he tipped his head back in the breeze that flowed in. His left hand lay on Cas’ thigh, curled around Cas’ fingers in a loose grip.

Sometimes it was just nice to let go, which was a thing Dean rarely allowed himself.

***

Yesterday had been Dean’s birthday, and celebrating that was something else he’d denied himself for so long. But since Cas had come into his life it was back on the agenda properly for the first time since he was four, even if he had protested about it the first few times.

The first birthday Cas had sidled up to him, nudging his shoulder with  _ that  _ smile on his face and murmuring birthday greetings in his ear. The next one Cas had appeared unceremoniously in their motel room, a bottle of rare bourbon in one hand and a pie in the other. There had been less affectionate greetings for a couple of years reflecting the trouble the world was in (and at their hands, no less), and a couple when they hadn't seen each other at all. But the best one by far had been last year, when Cas had said he would give Dean anything he wanted if it were in his power to do so. Dean, warring with feeling alone, being weary of life and so done with the torment that was his draw to Cas, had backed him up against the Impala and kissed him.

There had been neither resistance nor objection from Cas.

Last night Cas had insisted that they and Sam go somewhere special to eat. They’d found a build your own burger place and spent a happy hour gorging themselves until they were fit to bursting. Even Sam, who had then volunteered to drive them back to the bunker so Dean could have an extra drink.

Dean had refused.

The past year had seen some changes in Dean, and for the first time in a while, these were good changes. Whiskey had been gradually replaced by coffee. Salad had made a small but recurring appearance on the side of his plate when they ate. Sleeping attire was minimal if not completely lacking depending on the evening’s activities; gone were the days of going to bed fully clothed, still booted, and tensed for trouble.

There was a direct correlation between the reduction of the Bad Things and the increased amount of time Cas was present in their lives. And if Sam didn't already love Cas in his own right, seeing just how good he was for his brother earned him all the gold stars in the world.

***

So that morning they had all woken with clear heads and clear memories of the night before. Sam had given a mock salute as Cas had loaded up the car and slid into the driver’s seat, not even trying to hide the teasing grin on his face as he looked over at Dean. Dean flipped him off with an easy, “Later, Sammy,” and slammed the passenger door behind him.

Cas was taking Dean somewhere for his birthday.

It wasn't the first time they’d had alone time together. In fact it wasn't even the first time they’d taken a deliberate break from hunting  _ just because  _ , and  _ just for themselves  _ . But it was the first that Cas had initiated and planned, and Dean found himself both excited and humbled that Cas had gone to any kind of trouble for him. He didn't even care what they ended up doing.

Dean wasn't really used to being anyone’s priority, after all.

***

_ Cas and Dean on downtime  _ was an entirely different entity to  _ Cas and Dean in the ‘workplace’  _ . Cas was spontaneously affectionate, leaning across to kiss Dean at the few times they stopped at traffic lights or at other moments when he least expected it. Dean was a toucher, gravitating to hold Cas’ hand, or hook an arm around his shoulders or waist, letting his hand rest there like it belonged. His gesture was all pride and possession, and his look, should they receive a displeased raised eyebrow in their general direction, was fuck off.

Looking up at the hotel building where they had pulled up, Dean thought that either Cas had becoming incredibly good at using those fake credit cards Charlie had set them up with, or he was suffering from wishful thinking.

Dean was practically giddy to find out on checking in that it was the former that was the case.

Cas pressed the key card against the panel on the hotel room door and swung it open, a smile for Dean that gestured for him to go inside. Dean stepped in; this was definitely a step up or ten from their usual motel surroundings. Cream cotton linen with a mix of tasteful orange and brown decoration throughout, thick piled carpet beneath their feet, a wall of window that allowed the room to be bathed in light. On the coffee table in front of the small couch was a bottle of champagne and two flute glasses.

Dean walked around the room and Cas watched silently once he’d put their bags down beside the bed. There was a smile on Dean’s face that made Cas’ stomach sink in heartbreak as it often did; it said,  _ ‘are you sure this is for me?’  _ It made Cas want to move literal mountains if that’s what Dean wanted him to do. Not that he’d ever ask.

Cas stepped forward before he could think, cupping Dean’s face and pulling him into a kiss. He felt the momentary surprise in Dean before his arms were around him, one hand lingering for only a second before raising and weaving through Cas’ hair.

Cas turned them on the spot and backed them up until Dean’s legs bumped the bed, making them tumble gracelessly backwards. Dean huffed and grinned up at him, fingers back through Cas’ hair and pulling his face down so that he could kiss him again.

“You drove me all this way to have your wicked way with me, Cas? He said between kisses, revelling in how very alone they were in this room.

Cas smiled before humming against his lips in agreement. “It might have been on my list of things to do, yes. Do you object?”

Dean ran his hands down Cas’ sides, shifted his legs so Cas could lay comfortably between them. Cas rolled his hips once, smirking at the soft groan Dean gave in response before he replied with, “Nope. No objections at all,” and rolling back in response. He flicked his tongue into Cas’ mouth, one hand still winding through his hair and the other working Cas’ shirt free to splay his fingers along his back. “Kinda curious about this list though,”

Cas darted his own tongue into Dean’s mouth in chase, shifting himself to pull on the neck of Dean’s shirt. He push the fabric back enough to insinuate he expected Dean out of it, and soon.

Dean laughed, a low ‘ _ I'm on to you  _ ’ chuckle, before raising them both enough for him to be free of his shirt. He quickly yanked his t-shirt over his head whilst he was at it and laid back down.

Nodding in satisfaction, Cas languidly removed himself of own shirt and leaned into him, smiling as their bare chests touched. “I admit. That might have taken up a large section of the list.” he mumbled, teeth biting down on Dean’s pulse point as he began a trail of kisses down his chest, pressing one firm one just beneath his navel. “I do have additional plans for you, however.” He rested his chin on Dean’s stomach, looking up at him with a smirk.

Dean looked down, enjoying the view. “Gonna share?”

Cas nosed against the growing swell of Dean’s jeans before rapidly popping the button and yanking the zip down. He mouthed at him through the fabric of his boxers, mumbling against him, “Perhaps later,” before pulling those down too, leaving Dean exposed from mid-thigh upwards. Cas lifted his head to watch Dean as he ran his tongue along Dean’s full length.

When he wrapped his fingers around Dean’s base and pulled him forward so that he could flick his tongue across the head of his cock, he grinned as Dean’s eyes rolled and closed, a low guttural noise deep in his throat echoing up through his slack open mouth.

Wriggling to his knees on the floor, Cas pulled Dean’s jeans and boxers down further and forced his legs apart, bending to take him fully into his mouth. Dean answered with another groan and raised hips, which Cas pushed firmly back into the bed, alternating between swirling his tongue around his head and sucking with just the amount of pressure he knew Dean liked. Dean encouraged him on with a series of gasps and half stuttered breaths in response.

Sliding his hands down, Cas parted Dean’s cheeks and gently exposed his hole with his thumbs. His mouth popped noisily off of Dean’s cock and kissed its way down his length once more, trailing along the lines of veins which he knew Dean found particularly sensitive. When he pressed his tongue heavily into him, Dean made the most delicious of noises, and Cas fought for both self-control and to keep Dean just where he wanted him.

As he licked him open, one hand stroked Dean firmly, a thumb swirling over his head to drag the moisture down for the perfect friction. He loved the way he could make Dean whimper at his touch, and the way Dean writhed, wrecked, beneath him.

He could feel Dean was close and quickly changed position, taking him fully into his mouth again. He firmly pressed a finger into him at the perfect angle to hit his prostate in time with every lick of his tongue and suck of his mouth. Cas was unrelenting, chasing Dean’s orgasm, not pausing until he felt him tense beneath him and warmth flood into his mouth, swallowing down as he listened to a string of expletives.

Cas pulled off slowly, kneeling back on the bed over Dean and smirking smugly down at him as he watched him breathing heavily. Dean’s eyes were glassy as they stared back, hands idly patting at Cas’ hips.

“This list is much more fun to show you than tell you about, Dean,” he whispered after a moment, before standing up and stretching.

Dean raised an eyebrow, raising his arm heavily in the direction of Cas’ crotch. “Don’t you want me to-”

“Not right now.” Cas shrugged. “We have time later. Do you think you can move, or do you need a minute?” Cas watched Dean’s eyebrow edge even higher as he rolled slowly to sit up, disbelief evident on his face.

“We on a schedule, Cas?”

He tilted his head to one side; Dean was certain he only did that so frequently because he’d let it slip one time that he thought it was cute. “Not as such. I am, however, hungry,” he offered, and his stomach chose that moment to growl as though to back up his statement.

Dean’s smile was warm as he raised his hands again, gesturing for Cas to pull him up. He did, stepping into Dean’s arms and gratefully receiving the kiss waiting there for him before they both re-dressed.

***

Despite his hunger, Cas had insisted on unpacking before they left the room. A life lived in motels had never given them reason to live any way other than temporarily, but since the bunker had become a place of home, some small semblance of permanence had proved very grounding for Dean. Perhaps they were only there for two nights, but seeing their clothes hung side by side and their toiletries strewn all over the bathroom surfaces settled very comfortably on Dean. Cas, of course, knew this very well, and made sure Dean did the things that mattered most to him.

***

They walked hand in hand out of the hotel and up the street, Dean keeping an eye out for somewhere to eat. He saw what looked like a small diner a little way off but stopped as he felt Cas tugging on his hand. Turning, he saw Cas flicking his head towards a small shop selling sandwiches and cakes, lips curved up into a smile.

“We could take out. Eat there,”

Dean looked in the direction Cas’ nod suggested, seeing a sign that pointed to a park.

Fifteen minutes later and laden with lunch, they followed the sign for the park and found a bench overlooking a fountain, their food spread out in the gap between them.

They ate in companionable silence, watching a mother and her toddler on unsteady feet amble by, a pigeon peck awkwardly around their feet for crumbs, and an over-enthusiastic Labrador bound towards them. The dog came to a halt directly in front of them, resting its head in Cas’ lap, eyeing his sandwich. Cas patted its head affectionately, smiling with a full mouth before breaking off a piece of ham. The owner rounded the corner, panting out an apology as the dog greedily swallowed down the offered ham. The dog sat obediently, wagging its tail, looking expectantly for more food.

As they watched it walk away, it seemed the dog had turned their thoughts to the same subject.

“What do you think Sam is doing?” Cas asked, taking a swig of water from his bottle.

Dean rolled his eyes but the smile on his face spoke of his affection. “Juicing? Meditating? Some kind of intensely sweaty yoga? Probably tainting the bunker with that god-awful music he insists on when we’re not around.”

Cas laughed, screwing up the paper bag from his sandwich into a ball. “It’s not all bad.”

Dean shrunk back away from him in mock horror. “Do not side with my brother when it comes to music. You know I'm right.”

“I know you’re right.” Cas conceded with a tilt of his head. “Most of the time. I much prefer your music to Sam’s, as you already know.”

Dean nodded but frowned slightly at his words. Cas really should make his own choices, not just based on theirs.  “What about your music, Cas? What’s not mine, or Sam’s?”

Again, Cas tilted his head. “I like your music, Dean. It has become a comfort over the years.”

“You mean I've been brainwashing you with it in the car, don’t you?”

Cas smiled. “Somewhat. I do still enjoy it, however. It is a good genre.”

“Alright,” Dean said, reaching over for Cas’ balled-up paper and taking their waste over to the trash can near the bench, “question time.”

“Alright,” Cas echoed with curiosity evident in his voice.

“Stones or Beatles?”

Cas smiled, thinking he might like this game. “Stones.”

“Deep Purple or Led Zeppelin?”

“Led Zeppelin.”

“CCR or...Allman Brothers?”

Cas wrinkled his nose, and then, “CCR.”

Dean smiled in pride, closing the gap between them on the bench and nudging Cas’ shoulder.

Cas nudged back. “You could try something from a decade that isn’t the 70’s, Dean.”

“Technically-”

Cas reached across to cover Dean’s mouth with his fingers then replaced them with a kiss. “Foo Fighters or Queens Of The Stone Age?”

Dean opened his mouth as if to speak then paused. “Uh. Foo Fighters?”

Cas grinned. “Eagles Of Death Metal or… Theory Of A Deadman?”

Dean looked loss and shrugged his shoulders helplessly, which made Cas grin even wider. “I prefer Eagles Of Death Metal. You do too, actually.”

“I… I do?”

Cas nodded. “When we cooked last week and I used my Spotify account. You danced to Miss Alissa.”

“I...did?”

“You did. I’ll remind you of it later.”

“Huh.” Dean cuffed the back of his neck.

“You also liked Rival Sons. Some say they are the modern Led Zeppelin,” he added knowledgeably, waiting for Dean’s outrage to hit.

“That.” he pointed, wagging a finger under Cas’ nose, “That right there is close to blasphemy, Cas.”

Cas laughed hard at that, linking his fingers through Dean’s and slouching back against the bench.

“So,” Dean started a few minutes later, “This list.”

Cas squeezed his fingers. “There’s not an actual list, Dean. There is something I want to show you today, and I had some ideas for tomorrow, but that is all. Should I have planned more?” The worry in his voice snapped Dean’s face round and he leaned in instantly to kiss him.

“No,” he answered, palm against Cas’ face and kissing him again, “This is perfect. Thank you,” he added, with another kiss. There could never be enough kisses, not with Cas.

Cas dropped his head to bump on Dean’s shoulder then pulled back, smiling. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.”

***

Dean walked contentedly beside Cas, still holding his hand, still happy to be led. He took in the surroundings on autopilot, mentally mapping the layout of the street in case there should be any need for a quick escape. He doubted there would be but instinct drove him to do that wherever they went, even on down time.

He was so busy making his mental notes that again, he didn't notice at first when Cas came to a stop. Cas had even slid his hand out of his, and Dean turned back, finally noticing their hands were separated.

Cas stood awkwardly, paused in front of a glass paned door with a brass bell over the entrance. Dean raised his eyes to the shop sign and felt Cas watching him as he took it in. When Dean looked back down he caught Cas chewing his lip as though he were worried that his idea wasn't going to be well received.

Dean rushed forward and held on to Cas’ forearms with a grin. “You brought me to a vintage record store?” he asked, delight evident in his voice.

Cas nodded shyly, relief clear on his face. “Since you found that record player in the storeroom you have been… incorrigible about educating us on ‘good music’.” He air quoted the end of the sentence and as he raised his arms to do so, Dean’s fell to his sides, whilst he tilted his head back and laughed.

“Come on then,” Dean said, wriggling his fingers out for Cas to take, smiling as the bell tinkled above them when they entered the shop.

The shop was every music fan’s heaven. Rack upon rack of music, grouped by genre then band and all immaculately kept on display. Band t-shirts and old gig posters adorned the spaces on the walls, and a real honest-to-god turntable sat on the counter hooked up to speakers that blasted out into the store. Dean turned to Cas with a grateful smile.

“I thought you could expand your collection.” Cas explained. “Or at least…” and he tipped his chin towards the man behind the counter nodding in time to the music, “you’d be able to speak with someone who shows a better music appreciation than Sam or I,”

“Sure is a great collection here,” Dean said, running a finger along the length of a rack at their side, looking with glee at the titles there.

“I know. I Googled. It’s the best in the state,” Cas replied proudly with a touch of blush to his cheeks. Dean’s eyes were all adoring gratitude one moment before morphing into kid in a toy store the next.

Cas watched the transformation happily and wandered away, leaving Dean to browse. As he walked past the counter, the man serving looked up from the magazine he was reading and nodded in greeting. “Need help?” he asked gruffly, eyes glancing over at Dean.

“I don’t know,” Cas answered honestly. “My...Dean. He is somewhat of an expert on music.”

“That so?”

“At least. He believes so,” Cas added, with an affectionate grin. He was glad to see the mirth in the other man’s eyes as he stood up.

“Music not your thing?” he asked, lifting the counter surface to step out.

“I like music. I am simply not as passionate about it as he is.”

“Roy.” the man became with a name, extending his hand out for Cas to shake.

“Castiel.” Cas appreciated that there was no reaction to his name.

“Passionate, huh? What’s his favourite song?” Roy mused, studying Dean’s profile.

“Ramble On.” Cas gave without hesitation, and Roy’s face split into a grin of appreciation.

“That so,” he repeated, turning to watch Dean again as he stooped to look at a lower shelf. “Well, Castiel, there’s a couch there if you want to sit a while.” he nodded towards a very low black leather couch that skirted next to the counter. “What do you say to me going and giving Dean a hand?”

“I think he would enjoy that very much.”

Cas lowered himself on to the couch, watching as Roy introduced himself. He knew he’d made the right decision as he watched the easy back and forth between them.

The conversation was lengthy; each offering opinions with Roy leading Dean over to various sections of the store and pulling out album after album, forming a small stack in his hands. Cas smiled as he heard Dean laughing at something Roy said, leaning against the frame of a rack and doubled over in laughter.

As they walked around the store, Dean turned towards Cas every few minutes, checking to see if he was okay with a quick wink and a smile. Cas smiled back, nodding for him to continue.

A good half an hour or more had passed before Dean sauntered towards him, with both he and Roy holding a healthy wedge of music in each of their arms. Roy ducked under the counter to bring out a couple of stools, and gently took the currently playing record off of the turntable.

“All yours my friend,” Roy said, nodding towards the turntable. Dean’s eyes lit up and he reached a hand out to caress the edge of the player in awe.

“Seriously?”

“‘course.”

Dean turned on his stool, leaning back to look at Cas on the couch. “Cas?”

Cas stood, walking towards them and looking at the piles of music in interest. Roy gestured for Cas to sit on the second stool beside Dean and ducked back his side of the counter to lean on it.

Another good hour passed with Dean often changing the music, bits of music trivia passing back between them both and Cas’ opinion asked often. When Cas leaned over to read the sleeve of an album and without thinking rested a hand on Dean’s leg to do so, he froze, eyes lifting to Roy’s in fear. Dean felt him tense and immediately laid his hand on top of Cas’ threading their fingers together, tilting the sleeve so that he could get a better look.

Roy didn't so much as blink.

The two piles of records narrowed down into one, and Dean turned to Cas, knocking their knees together. “So. Gonna help me choose?”

Cas shook his head, instead pulling out his wallet and sliding a card over to pay for them all. “Happy Birthday, Dean.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ hand and jumped down from the stool, all excitement.

As Roy packaged up Dean’s purchases, he tapped at a flyer on the counter. “Bar over the road has live music tonight. These guys are local but I’ve a feeling they play the kinda stuff you like. If you’re interested.”

Cas turned on the stool to Dean and smiled.

***

They were almost late for the live music on account of the massage bar Cas pulled from his toiletry bag when they returned to the hotel to offload the music. As they watched the band perform, the lingering citrus smell from it wafted under Cas’ nose when he leaned in to press his lips against Dean’s shoulder. His lips curled into a blushing smile at the freshly made memory it stirred.

The band were good, deemed acceptable enough for Dean to praise them and keep his snipes about ‘not being Zeppelin’ to a minimum. The nachos they ate at the bar were substantial enough to keep them going until the music had finished. But Cas insisted they stop for pie somewhere on the way back to the hotel. He distracted Dean by pointing something out on the menu over the counter, and Cas jammed a single candle into Dean’s slice of pie before he turned back. The look of horror on the waitress’s face as he lit it was almost better than the laugh Dean gave in response before he blew the candle out.

When they returned to the hotel room for the final time that night, Dean kicked off his shoes and sank to the couch, patting his belly. Cas rolled his eyes but smiled, heading for the bathroom.

Dean opened his eyes with a grin when he heard Cas running a bath. The grin turned into a guffaw when Cas came to stand in the doorway a while later with a doubtful expression on his face and a half-empty bottle in his hand.

“I think I may have used too much,” he complained, and Dean jumped up, peering over Cas’ shoulder as the bubbles teetered on the edge of the tub. Dean leaned in to kiss him, turning quickly on his heel to fetch the champagne and glasses from earlier before returning to nudge Cas backwards into the bathroom.

Cas undressed Dean slowly, kissing exposed skin and whispering endearments into it.  _ Cas and Dean alone  _ was a special subsection of  _ Cas and Dean on downtime  _ , where Dean allowed himself to feel loved without restraint. It had taken a little getting used to and a lot of patience from Cas, who still couldn't understand how Dean could have such a low opinion of himself.

Cas held a hand out to Dean to hold onto whilst he stepped into the bath, then quickly shrugged out of his own clothes and stepped in to join him. They sank below the bubbles, laughing as they finally made their escape and slid down the sides of the tub.

A clink of glasses and a silent toast, Dean leaned his head back on the edge of the tub and sighed contentedly. “You know, Cas,” he began, eyes closed as he spoke, “This might be the best birthday I've ever had.”

Cas pursed his lips. “I am both glad and sad to hear that, Dean. I wish you had better birthday memories before this one.”

Dean raised his head and beamed at him, a wink leading in to, “Maybe you’ll just have to keep helping me have good birthdays in the future, huh Cas?”

“I intend to,” he blushed back, ducking his head.

Dean reached over to place a soapy hand under Cas’ chin to raise it. “Thank you,” he said, full of sincerity and wonder. “This has kinda been the perfect day, you know?”

Cas leaned his head down, pressing a kiss into Dean’s palm. “That gives me a challenge for tomorrow, doesn't it?” He moved, shifting to sit between Dean’s legs. Dean kissed the damp curls at the base of Cas’ neck and smiled against his shoulder.

“What did you have in mind?”

Cas topped up their glasses and rested back against Dean’s chest, head into the crook of his neck as Dean’s arm slid around his waist under the water. “There’s a ‘coffee and cars’ event in the morning I think you might like.” Dean smiled into Cas’ hair, thinking that a soaped-up air quote was potentially even cuter than the regular ones. “And tomorrow night I want us to go to a Brazilian steakhouse I found. I made reservations. All you can eat meat…” he trailed off, as Dean hummed in appreciation in his ear.

“See that sounds like a perfect day too, Cas. How am I ever gonna top that when it comes to your birthdays?”

Cas shrugged in his arms, turning a little to press a kiss to his jaw. “It isn't a competition.”

“Maybe,” Dean conceded, sipping from his glass. “You've still given me the best birthday. Ever.”

“Maybe you deserve it.”

Dean nosed at Cas’ hair and smiled. “...just maybe?”

Cas turned sloppily, sliding on the bubble-slicked surface to kneel between Dean’s legs. He drained his glass, gesturing for Dean to do the same then set them both on the ground beside them. “I might have more things to show you that would demonstrate how much I think you deserve a good birthday.” he said, wriggling a little and slipping in the process. “I think we might have to get out of this bath to do them though.”

Dean ran his fingers through the bubbles and placed his hands on Cas’ cheeks, pulling his face down for a kiss. “I like the sound of that. After the bubbles have gone?”

Cas smiled against his lips, steadying himself with his hands on Dean’s shoulders as he settled back more comfortably in the bath. “After the bubbles have gone.”

  
  
  



End file.
